


Marionette

by Shahnaz



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Hypnotism, M/M, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3660006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shahnaz/pseuds/Shahnaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judal did say he'll make the King his, and he thinks he had just found the way to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marionette

**Author's Note:**

> A short, basic Judal/Sinbad bit with Hypnosis as the prompt theme. I know it's highly unlikely Judal has sound magic in canon, but it seemed like the best form to get the effect I wanted. 
> 
> It's kind of vagueish in terms of canon point. Also went back to fix editing errors and expand on a few times I had previously rushed on to get it done.

There he is! The dark-haired youth thought with barely contained glee as he felt him. That bright beacon shining bright – Rukh both light and dark swirling in the night air as if beckoning him, telling Judal to come get the stupid king they belong to. 

Some people call it charisma, others animal magnetism, but the Rukh was what draws people, even if they were unable to see it like he can – if everyone else was a creek or pond, Sinbad was the fathomless ocean, the radiant sun compared to the sputtering torches around him. Others may be happy to drown in his depths or set their entire lives to the benevolent and far-reaching light. But not Judal.

He wants to tame him - bring the Sindrian king to his side, what’s the point of being a Magi if he can’t have what he wants? He thought to himself as he pushes off the ground and followed the trail – even without the sheer mass of Rukh that always surrounded Sinbad, Aktia Kingdom was small enough that he would’ve stumbled onto the King eventually.

Just like now. 

A deafening roar of cheer seems to pour out of the building as the violet-haired man pushes the door open, laughing at something that the Magi couldn’t see or hear as he saunters off, moving through the alleyways as if he had lived there his entire life. 

Such arrogance! The thought went through his mind before he cursed those words, it sounded like something that fucking witch would say. The bitterness that popped up was quickly replaced with a lopsided grin as he rushes to intercept the man before he could return to his meddling generals. Of course the King would move with such confidence, only a complete idiot would try to mug someone like him. 

Naturally, a Magi like himself didn’t fall under that category; he knows if he really wanted to, he can beat the Stupid King. So without warning he steps off the roof, and floated down in front of the older man as he pulled a wand from his white chunari. 

“You – what the hell are you doing here?” Sinbad called out, the hints of drunkenness seemed to melt completely away from his form as he tenses, priming himself for a fight. 

The smirk that started to play on Judal’s lips grew wider when he recognized the furrow of those thick brows, the way Sinbad’s right hand curls. “Didn’t I tell you before? I said I’m gonna make you mine.” He pointed the ruby-tipped wand at the Singularity, noticing how the Rukh around him flutter and tense.

The King’s hand went to his sword, golden eyes starting to lock onto the Magi’s own eyes. Perfect!

 _“Do not raise your hand to me!”_ He intoned as his wand glowed – sparks flying off with an almost droning buzz, his own Rukh humming excitedly.

A soft, confused sound escaped the King’s throat as he found himself freezing – fingers a hair’s breadth away from the hilt, Rukh trembling and rolling in place. Judal had to smirk; the idiot’s probably wondering why he wasn’t drawing his weapon.

Sound magic was perhaps one of his weakest areas, but he spent weeks practicing on this form just for the King. There was no need to memorize formulas or complicated words, since any means of making sound in theory works – but the problem was focusing it into something that had a noticeable effect… especially for what he wanted, and even when he got the principles of it down, he had to add lightning magic to amplify the vibrations and kept for the commands to "cling on". 

He jerks as the command dissipated, taking to the air as Sinbad started swinging. “Coooome on, it’ll be easier if you just accept it.” He rolls his eye as he started charging up, feeling the uncomfortable tingle of static build up against his skin – figures he’s too stubborn to stay under without more pressure. _“Come to me and obey.”_

For a moment, those amber eyes seem to cloud over, then they widened as a visible tremble went through the older man, his Rukh quivering like frightened birds, even as he physically shook off this attempt, much of his Rukh started to flutter around the Magi, almost cooing at him in befuddled adoration. “No. You can’t just use magic to get what you want!” He snarls as he tries to power through the magical compulsion that was going through him.

Judal’s eyes went wide and the grin broadens, equal parts frustrated by the King’s continual resistance, and excited. Of course such a person isn’t going to give in; it was just like fighting with him, but against his mind. He darts away, and tossed a look over his shoulder. If the Stupid King was smart, he’d run off, find one of his obnoxious generals, like that Magician woman.

But he wouldn’t be the Stupid King if he did the sensible thing. Of course Sinbad gave chase, what’s rich was he didn’t even seem to consider equipping one of his Djinns to do so! Judal gave a wicked smirk as he could see the spell sapping away his strength – the king was starting to slow down, even if it seemed like he was growing more and more determined to catch up to him. 

It was a block or so later that he realized that he was no longer being tailed by the man. Must’ve gotten to him, he thought as he doubled back, spying the man easily, shaking in place, the Rukh around him strangely still, though they seem to brighten and hum when Judal landed. 

“You…” Sinbad hissed through clenched teeth, brow drenched with sweat, his eyes seeming to have some trouble focusing. No, the Magi corrected himself with a small smile – he was having difficulty focusing on anything but **him**. He inspected the man before him, noticing a sag in his form, the way he’s just barely holding onto his sword, and how he seem to struggle just to stay standing. “Damn it. You can’t just-”

“I already did, stupid.” The fallen magi grins lopsidedly as a hand rested on the chiseled cheek – and it seemed like everything just **snapped** within the King at the touch. A strangled cry catches in Sinbad’s throat - he instantly dropped to his knees like a marionette that had its strings cut, Baal’s metal vessel clattering on the cobblestones – echoing the ripple spread throughout his Rukh as they almost seem to whine in response. Golden eyes stared up at him blankly, lips slightly parted, looking lost, confused, and in need of guidance. his breathing deep and quiet, as if he was merely sleeping. 

He wondered briefly what it looked like from Sinbad’s view, did he just fall asleep, or did the world fade away except for him? “Jeez, look at you kneeling like that, seems like you already know your place, Stupid King.” Judal teased before frowning slightly – okay, now what was he going to do? He spent so much time figuring how to get the King to become his, he really didn’t think of what he’d do next. 

Obviously can’t have that Fanalis tracking them down, so he needs to take them where they wouldn’t get interrupted. With a flick of his wrist, the young man threw off his chunari, which quickly expanded into a large blanket, hovering three inches above the ground. “All right, let’s see how well you obey. _Get on the blanket_.” He gestures as he grabbed the shamshir, sensing the djinn dwelling within it, the latent energy almost thrumming against the palm of his hand.

Sinbad started to rise to his feet, his obediently taking a few shaky steps towards the magic chunari before sitting cross-legged on it, his head lightly bowed, looking as though he was simply nodding off. Judal couldn’t help but put his arms around the King’s shoulders, pressing his hands against the coil of powerful muscle under his skin, almost shivering in sheer anticipation. 

He felt stronger than he looked, and in the Magi’s eyes the Sindrian King already looked like a panther given human form – all muscle and grace and touching him felt better than he even had imagined, warm and inviting. A flare of hot jealousy inflamed his heart, wondering how many whores – or even koceks received the pleasure of being held down by broad, calloused hands or wrapped up in those powerful arms. The heat burned in his chest as he buried his face against the man, for a moment baring teeth like some kind of dog, even the knowledge of that he had the King in his arms didn’t do much to keep the envious thoughts from running through his head. “Sinbad, you’re not going to be touching another person as long as you’re mine.” He purred darkly against the man’s ear, biting at the lobe, before tugging at an earring with his teeth. “You’re not even going to be able to see them, got that?” His carbuncle eyes gleamed heatedly. _"Tell me, you will be mine. Yes?"_

“Yes…” The voice was sonorous, seeming to just barely drag itself from the King’s throat; the heaviness sent a shiver down the Magi’s spine, distracting him enough that they had almost overshot the rooftop that Judal had scouted out earlier a stargazing spot. He didn’t react once the flying chunari started to descend upon the flat roof, still in the half-sleep trance the magi had placed him under. 

“All right. I’d take you back to Kou with me, but I can’t wait any longer! We’re gonna do it right now.” He exclaimed as he hopped off, turning towards the king – and frowns slightly when he doesn’t follow. “Right. Guess you’re stupid enough you’ll need some direction,” He laughed nervously, trying to ignore the butterflies flitting around in his stomach. “ _Come to me,_ ” He started, and grinned as Sinbad obeyed before raising a hand. “Wait. Now - _Strip. Show me everything you got._ " 

The king stops in mid-step, his broad hands suddenly tightened on the knot in his wrap, those tiger-like eyes staring unfocused at Judal as they started to loosen it, moving as if they were possessed. Judal watched, enraptured as the cloth drops, exposing more of his powerful biceps and broad shoulders, feeling the grin on his face widening as the tunic went next, inching up as the taut, toned abs was bared to the night air, then the developed pecs, nipples stiffening from the slight chill. It was all he could do to keep from rushing over and groping at the older man.

There was a strange quality to the way he was undressing himself, it wouldn’t be accurate to say it was stiff or mechanical, but almost like someone else was behind him, holding the King by his wrists, guiding him. For a moment, he allowed himself to picture it in his mind’s eye that he was the one behind the king, feeling the warm skin under hand, how his chest rose and fell, undressing him. Judal nearly choked as the man allowed his baggy pants to drop, so he was in nothing but a loincloth and the jewelry glittering in the moonlight, and Sinbad moved to pull off the silver ring. 

“No. Keep the vessels on,” He stepped forward, standing on his tiptoes to place his delicate hands on the King’s shoulders, finding himself hesitating. That’s not right, he shouldn’t be nervous; he got everything he wanted, right?

No, he can’t be nervous – he’s just excited. It’s going to be their first time after all; Judal reassured himself as he reaches up, fingers tracing Sinbad’s cheekbones, staring down at those flat, amber eyes. Before he could talk himself out of it, he forces his lips against Sinbad’s in a demanding kiss as he yanked an arm forward, wrapping it around his own waist. 

There was no response, and soon he went back to fully rest his weight on his feet, puffing his cheeks out. Those gossipy maids must’ve been wrong! They would clamor around the palace when they thought neither the Rens or the High Priest would hear them, talking about love and shit. A first kiss was supposed to be special, electrifying, but he might as well be kissing his own hand for all it did for him! 

“Stupid king! Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of great lover? What the fuck gives?” He started to shout, pushing himself away petulantly, expecting to hear some kind of protest about the reality falling short of rumors. Maybe the kissing wasn't all that's cracked up to be, but the sex has to be something, right? Judal thought to himself as he pushes the man down to sit, and crawls over his lap, feeling the warm of his body against him. "Touch me," He whispers hotly, feeling his heart twist between hard pounds.

" _Touch me like a lover._ " Judal practically snarled, burying his face against the man's chest, picking up the subtle whiff that unique perfume he wears - sandalwood, musk, cinnamon and cassia - the lingering hints of a spiced wines, that indescribable but unmistakable hint of the ocean and how the man was subtly shivering in the night air. The broad, sword-callous fingers brushed up his spine - causing the Magi to suppress a shiver. "Like that," He started - but any other praise or suggestion catches in his throat, as the fingers kept stroking over his spine, then switching to his flank - keeping the same exact strokes, the same pressure. Now he started trembling, feeling his stomach starting to revolt at this almost wind-up, clockwork motion.

"Stop..." but he didn't, he wasn't using the right frequency.

 _"Stop! Stop it! Stop touching me!"_ Judal almost squealed, practically throwing himself out of the man's lap, a hand falling over his chest, staring at the man before him with horror. "That can't be it, you must be doing it wrong, stupid! It's not suppose to feel like that." He berated - turning that horror into rage. "Why can't you do it normal? What's the matter with you?" The Magi demanded as he pulls himself up, expecting some kind of explanation.

But of course he’s not going to say anything, since he’s under the spell and… and…

The Magi pales as he took a closer look at the man. He was still standing there, with that listless, lifeless look, like some kind of doll. Sinbad was his, but – this wasn’t Sinbad, not the quiet, obedient thing that lacked warmth in its touch and can't seem to think for itself. 

“Fuck. FUCK.” He stamped his foot, despite knowing it was an exceedingly childish gesture. Of course the stupid king wouldn’t make it easy for him! Judal whipped out the silvery wand. He had his king, he could bring Sinbad back with him to Kou, Al-Thamen would reward him for certain, and they could do something about this.

No, he’s no idiot, they wouldn’t give their greatest enemy any sense of autonomy, fuck they barely gave their Black Magi any independence despite being their biggest asset. He didn’t want some fucking toy that looked like the radiant conqueror of seven dungeons. He wanted that stupid, arrogant, lively king.

Reluctantly he charges up a Ramz spell to provide the soothing drone to accompany the last use of sound magic he’ll perform. “ _Forget all have you seen and heard tonight! And your mind shall be yours to command once more!”_ Judal cried out before bolting off into the night sky before he could even see how Sinbad would react to his current situation.  


Next time, he’ll do it properly – when he makes the king his, he’ll make sure that its real thing.


End file.
